


Ruined

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Rainbow Marbles [37]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Broken Castiel, Dubious Consent, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Milking, Vibrators, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean teases Sam and Castiel and then ruins their orgasms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruined

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt from anon: Also made me wonder about prostate milking, and perhaps more specifically Dean giving into the pleading of Sam (or Sam and Cas) being allowed to come, but instead of being allowed to orgasm, he milks their prostate (perhaps after a 'blue' day)?
> 
> Warning: Some dub-con elements.

Castiel is pretty sure he’s not even coherent anymore, but he keeps begging anyway because that’s all he _can_ do. He’s kneeling with his arms tied behind his back, and the ropes surrounding his wrists are tied to the ropes surrounding his ankles and he can’t free himself no matter how hard he struggles. Every time he thrusts his hips, his cock is met with empty air and he lets out a broken sob because he _needs_ to come.

 

There’s a tiny vibrator in his hole, pressed up _just underneath_ his prostate, so, so, so close but not touching. The vibrations are maddening and have been on all day on the lowest setting. Everytime he moves, the tip of the plug brushes against his prostate ever so slightly. It’s enough to keep him on the edge, but not enough to push him over.

 

He knows that Sam is in the same position somewhere across the room, probably crying and begging and just as wrecked as he is. He knows that Dean won’t let either of them come today, knows that they’ll have to eat dinner like this, go to bed like this, trembling and needy and blindingly hard. That thought alone is enough to make him cry harder as another string of broken pleas tumble from his lips.

 

He knows that his vocabulary has been narrowed down to three words, ‘Master’ and ‘please’ and ‘need,’ but he doesn’t care; he just needs to come, needs Dean to reach down and wrap a hand around his length or turn up the vibrations just a little. He jerks his hips again, and there’s nothing there, nothing he can rut against, no relief in sight.

 

Then Dean is pulling him up onto his lap, and he sobs as the fabric of Dean’s shirt brushes against his cock, because he’s so agonizingly close and all he needs is a little bit more and it’s not enough and Dean doesn’t understand how desperate he is or how badly he needs to come and Dean could keep him like this forever, frantic and wanting and unable to find release.

 

“Cas, baby, do you want to come?” Dean asks gently, and there’s a hand on his cheek so he turns into it and licks it, because it’s Dean’s hand and Dean is the only one who can give him what he needs.

 

“Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you, please, Master, need,” he sobs.

 

“Shh. Be quiet before I change my mind,” Dean orders, and Castiel tries so hard not to make a sound because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Dean changes his mind and pushes him away and says that he can’t come after all.

 

He can’t help the broken whimper that escapes him when Dean twists the plug before pulling it out of him, or the sound he makes when Dean slips one long, beautiful finger into his greedy hole. He wants to beg for more, but he forces himself to stay quiet.

 

“Good boy, Cas,” Dean coos. “Just stay quiet and I’ll make everything better.”

 

He nods desperately and lets out a needy moan when Dean’s finger brushes against his prostate. All he needs is a little bit more and he’ll be coming. Dean’s finger brushes against it twice more and he clenches up and starts to come, but then Dean’s fingers are gone and he’s so empty and he’s coming anyway, little trickles of sticky white semen pulsing out of his dick.

 

He bucks his hips wildly, because he _needs_ something against his cock, needs to rub against something right _now,_ but Dean holds his hips in place and stops him from getting any friction at all. He starts to cry harder because he’s empty and softening and he still _needs_ so, so badly and he’s never felt anything more utterly, completely _frustrating_ in his life.

 

“No, please,” he begs. “Please, Master, please let me come.”

 

Dean laughs darkly and scoops up a little bit of his cum and brings it to Castiel’s lips. “What are you talking about? You just did.” Castiel whines and sucks up the evidence obediently, licking Dean’s fingers clean and curling his tongue around the tips just the way Dean likes.

 

Cas curls up next to Dean once he’s licked up the last of his cum. He watches as Dean does the same thing to Sam that he did to him. Sam struggles and begs him not to, because he saw what Dean did to Cas, but Dean just soothes him through it with soft touches and gentle words. Sam is crying too hard to clean up, so Dean makes Cas lick away Sam’s cum too.

 

Dean hands Sam to Cas, and Cas curls himself around Sam and peppers little kisses across his face while Sam’s sobs slowly die down.

 

“You both did very well today,” Dean says as he kisses each of them in turn. “I’m very proud of you. I’m going to give you so time to calm down. When you’re ready, please join me in the kitchen.”

 

Cas closes his eyes and nods, because nothing else matters as long as Dean is proud of him.


End file.
